


Without Reservations

by Black_Dawn, CrushedRose



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Awesome Greg Lestrade, Love, M/M, Mystrade Valentines Calendar 2018, Sherlock complimenting Greg, Song Lyrics, Valentine's Day, happy ending ?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-28
Updated: 2018-02-28
Packaged: 2019-03-24 18:55:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13817385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Black_Dawn/pseuds/Black_Dawn, https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrushedRose/pseuds/CrushedRose
Summary: Instead of a happy Valentine's day, Greg and Mycroft broke up, now a year later they need to face their mistakes...face each other, find Sherlock and deal with their feelings.





	1. Crying in the rain

**Without Reservations**

 

**Chapter 1: Crying in the rain**

 

The sun was rising behind the curtains, casting a ray of light over the floor, half of the light over the treadmill.  With every step Mycroft gave his foot would be in the light, then shadow than light then shadow...light, shadow...Mycroft wasn't bothered by it, his mind focused on other things. The sweat was running down his face at a slower time than his feet.

He came back from an overseas trip the day before and he was still a bit jet lagged, so he decided on running and then a few hours sleeping and then he would prepare for tonight.  

He enjoyed running, it cleared his mind, it removed toxins from his body, it was refreshing and he always felt good afterwards.

The problem at the moment was that unlike before, his mind wasn't empty, it was in thinking mode.  Work would take most of his thought and was currently the only thing getting him out of bed in the morning.

It used to be different....so different.

If he made the right choice it would still be like that, but he didn't and now it is all wrong.

Coincidentally it was work that made him choose and now he suffers the consequences, not work.

If he ever got the choice again he would not make the wrong one, again.

 

_“I’ll never let you see_

_The way my broken heart is hurting me_

_I’ve got my pride and I know how to hide_

_All my sorrow and pain_

_I’ll do my crying in the rain._

 

Maybe tonight.... maybe he could have a chance tonight...

He smiled and thought of what he lost a year ago today. His smile fell and he started to run faster.

No time to dwell on the past. The past is gone, actually _he_ is, for a year now, and he can’t change it, he wished he could, but can’t.  The best he can do is move forward and not make the mistake again.

 

<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

 

He was on his last mile when he was stirred from his thoughts. Groaning out loud he quickly switched off the machine and stepped off, picking up the phone.

*Dr. John Watson*

"Oh, what now...." He grumbled and presses the button.

"John, what can I do for you?"

"Hi Mycroft, sorry to bother you, are you sleeping or can you talk?" Mycroft briefly closed his eyes, what did his little brother do now....

"I can talk." There was no way he was going to say he was at home, with a date later on.... not to him and most certainly not to Sherlock....or.... well.... doesn’t matter.

"Oh good, that's....good....uhm....listen...." John started and Mycroft knew something was wrong, John sounded off.

"What happened John?"

"It’s...Harry, she....uhm...I got a call from Manchester yesterday ago...she tried to kill herself...."

Mycroft eyes widen, oh no, and John is very sensitive and emotional when it comes to suicide and suicide topics.

"My sympathy John is she..."

"Alive...for now...the doctors have her under observation and requested my help."

"Of course....is there anything I can do to help?"

"That's why I'm calling....I'm with her since her recovery but I couldn't reach Sherlock to tell him, he was on a case and I think his phone has been off for the last 24 hours..." Oh yes, Sherlock and being all dramatic when someone is trying to 'interrupt' him.

"Can you get hold of him and check if he’s fine? I need to know what’s going on. I left messages but he doesn't always check his phone."

Oh, John must be really worried if he thinks he can get through to Sherlock, but now is not the time to say anything.

"Of course John, don't worry I'll try to find him, I’m sure he’s fine."

"Thank you...I will, thank you." Mycroft waited a full ten seconds to breathe after John had hung up.

He looked at the wall, he still has time to find his little brother and pass the message along.

 

<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

 

Mycroft glanced at his watched and slammed the laptop screen shut.

It has been six hours and his nuisance called Sherlock is still elusive as ever.

London is big, but Mycroft's resources were bigger, at least that is what he tells himself. Sherlock's phone was still off and that meant it was a bit more challenging to find him. In fact, after their last fight it was near impossible, since they agreed on that Mycroft would seize his extensive surveillance and he can't break that now, not even for John.

Mycroft knew his brother was right; he had no business 'snooping' in Sherlock's life. He had to, in the past, but there was no reason that his little brother had to 'feel' Mycroft on his shoulders and back of every moment.

He didn't want to be the baby brother anymore, just the brother.

As he searched the usual boltholes he realised that in a way Sherlock was also disappointed in his big brother for how he treated a common friend, someone they admired, respected and loved....no he was not going to the past. Sherlock was not impressed and Mycroft has to deal with the repercussions of his brother’s absence.

 

By twelve Mycroft was back and without luck. In an attempt after the first time John called he logged on to the CCTV cameras, he may promise no Baker Street, but the rest of London was free, he just had to find a general area where Sherlock went.

 

<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

 

By one p.m. he still had nothing and John called for the second time.

"Anything?" John didn't waste any time.

"No."

"Mycroft, I can't come down from here in Manchester, you have to find him, he never disappeared this long without notice."

To you maybe, Mycroft thought, but stayed quiet.

"John, you do know I promised him and he was very adamant in me not interfering, our relationship isn't that strong, can you imagine what he'll do?"

"This is an emergency.'

"John....."

"What about the Yard?" Mycroft held his breath...

"No...." He replied peremptory.  He can't face...he has a date tonight.....

"Mycroft....Sherlock could be in danger. So get your head out of your arse and be the big brother you've always been!" With that the line went dead. Mycroft stared at the phone.

"What did it cost me?" He asked.

The clock showed a few minutes after two, he was desperate, he needed to get in help..

Mycroft glanced at his watched and slammed the laptop screen shut, it was early afternoon and that meant he only had a handful of hours to find him, before his plans tonight.

Taking a deep breath he faced facts. He had no idea where Sherlock was and he was running out of time and there was only one person to call...

How do you start?

" _Oh hello, my apologies for my atrocious behaviour last year when we ended our relationship, and even though it is our one year anniversary, Sherlock is missing and I need you to help me find him so I can be back in time for my date......."_

 

This is exactly why he should never allow it, or why he decided to search for Sherlock on his own, that way he won't bother anyone.

Standing up he walked to the front door, he was still wearing his Corduroy trousers he occasionally wore when he was still happy, and they were comfortable.  He had a dark emerald green jumper on that went well with it, according to someone....long ago....

His reflection in the mirror at the front door reminded him of happier times, while his eyes showed the pain. This was his look a while back, when he wanted to come home, smiling at funny jokes, watching sports while eating snacks and watching his love, his heart yelling at the telly.

He hasn't shaved since he got back but will do for work, and then the whole armour would be in place. But now, the hair was not sleek back, the red tint visible along with the five o'clock shadow. Only one man saw him like this, and today after a year he most likely will again.

Taking his jacket he took a deep breath before opening the door.

Mycroft made his way towards his car the mobile tight in his hand, the problem is that it won't matter how tight he holds it, he still need to make that call.

As he reached his car his phone rang, he looked down and froze.  For the first time in a year that name popped up. A nightmare comes true.

 

***Gregory Lestrade***

 

Taking a deep breath he answered.

"Hey, it’s me." the voice was hesitant, unsure, Mycroft knew the feeling.

"I....uhm....John called, he said Sherlock was missing and that uhm...you're having difficulties in finding him.  Is it true?"

Mycroft briefly closed his eyes.

"Good afternoon Gregory, Dr Watson was telling the truth, my brother is indeed nowhere to be found and his phone is off.  He suggested I ask the help of the Yard, however I refused, I'll find him." I just didn't count on John being so stubborn, clearly under the influence of Sherlock for too long.  Mycroft thought but didn't say it out loud. He couldn't do it.

"Have you tried his usual bolt holes?"

"Yes, the CCTV put him around Waterloo Station. I'm about to make my way over there.  Anyway, thank you for calling; I will update John as soon as possible."

"No, wait....don't hang up." Greg's voice was softer.

"It’s been close to two days right, counting today, do you have any idea where around the station?"

"No."

"Listen....I can help....now I know we promised to never talk to one another, but this is Sherlock. He may be your brother, but he is my friend.  You can't expect me to sit here in a corner just waiting, if he needs help or is in trouble I'm going to help him."

Mycroft could hear the stubbornness, he always did like that about Greg, and he liked many things. It's been a year since the break-up but he still remembers it like yesterday.

Greg was shot on duty and Mycroft placed a meeting before Greg and didn't go to the hospital right away.  Since it was only a graze he didn't deemed it necessary.

Sherlock yelled at him when he did finally showed up at the hospital.

"You'll regret it!"

Even later when Greg and Mycroft did had a falling out because Mycroft said Gregory must leave his job as it was too dangerous Sherlock once again told his brother “You will regret this."

He did, so much.

365 days, counting this morning he would wake up, see the empty bed and regret would be his first emotion.

Guilt over his actions, guilt over the nasty words, guilt over his need to control Greg's life, guilt over not even trying to meet him halfway or compromise.

The worse was that he couldn't remember the last words that were spoken between them except the instant regret when Greg run upstairs packed  his bags, came down and tossed his keys of the house on the dark wooden table and then slammed the door. The warmth and joy left with him, the cold and silence remaining with Mycroft.

It was too late.

They have not spoken since, each trying to move on. Mycroft waited a week to see if Gregory would come back.

He didn't.

Until this moment.

 

Mycroft heard Greg talking again and focused back to the conversation.

"Where was the last trace you have of Sherlock?'

The last....oh....once Gregory was onto something it was difficult to persuade him otherwise.

"Waterloo Station. The trace ended there when he got in."

He could hear Greg breathing and the way he knows him, he was running his hands through his hair. He once had permission to do run his fingers through the silver spikes, to those brown eyes would swirl like rich dark coffee intoxicating him and his emotions. Now, they don't even talk anymore.

"Okay....this is what we're going to do, it will be dark soon, and I’ll meet you at the exit of the tube station in thirty minutes. We could start there."

"You sure about this?"

"Mycroft...." _My, please call me ‘My’ again._

"Half an hour." Mycroft relented. The line went dead without Greg even saying goodbye. It was so unfair.  Mycroft really wished that he could stay at home and just wallow in self-pity for a change.

Unfortunately he had other responsibilities. Putting the phone back in his pocket he got into the car.

 

_If I wait for stormy skies_

_You won’t know the rain from the tears in my eyes_

_You’ll never know that I still love you so_

_Though the heartaches remain_

_I’ll do my crying in the rain_

 

 

Greg was five minutes late when he stepped out of the station, Mycroft stared...he hasn't seen Greg in a year, a whole year and his partner, his 'ex' partner was looking tired. The dark circles under his eyes looked the dark storm clouds above a cliff. The silver spikes were hanging with a slight limp, more silver than before, as if the aluminium steel was coated in white enamel, making it lighter.  The strong shoulders were...smaller, that's the only way he could describe it. Greg lost weight, his frame was smaller and that was a shame, because Mycroft loved the board frame, it was one of the only places he felt safe.  He watched as Greg noticed him by the slight limp in his step before he walked with steady steps towards him. Over his shoulder was a small backpack.

Greg came to a stop in front of Mycroft.

“Good to see you. How you’ve been?”

“Good thank you. You?”  Mycroft answered back, civil, he can do civil.

 

“Yeah…good…yeah…” Greg replied trying to keep the sadness out of his voice.  Civil and neutral, that was his goal for today.  He tried to shake the past, but some nights were a lot more difficult than others.  Some days he could kick himself for being so impulsive, he should’ve listened to Mycroft too, without losing his patience and storming off.  They should’ve found a way, they should’ve communicate and found a compromise.

After he stormed off, he waited.  He waited for a call, a text message anything that told him Mycroft was still interested.  That there was still hope for the both of them. A whole month of hope, of desperation but nothing came. No call, nothing.  And he didn’t try either.

He realised now, maybe he should’ve…but he didn’t.

Greg forgot the words that were spoken but he didn’t forget that the silence meant it was over and he lost everything.

Mycroft looked good, still amazing as ever, and that aftershave…

Greg knew how he looked, well not so good, the break up had been hard for him.  He had loved Mycroft for years and he lost him too soon.  You don’t recover from that so easily. Well, he just has to face today and get through it with his pride intact.  If he still had some sense of humour left, he would’ve thought it funny that he was seeing Mycroft on the anniversary of their separation.  Brilliant…

“I’m sorry to involve you, I did tell John that I’m capable of finding Sherlock on my own, but clearly he didn’t trust me.”  Greg looked to Mycroft and shrugged.

“It’s fine.  I’m here now, besides I don’t have any plans for today and nowhere to be, and I’m on leave until next week, so let’s do this.”

Mycroft frowned and couldn’t stop the question escaping from his mouth.

“Leave…you never took leave unless….Oh…sorry…none of my business.” He quickly stopped himself looking away.   If the circumstances were different Greg would’ve laughed instead he ran his fingers through his hair and readjusted the backpack.

“Well things changed, I did some re-evaluation of my life and decided to take some time every now and then, I’ve been working for too many years and hardly anything to show for it, decided to make some time for me.”

Mycroft nodded and both were quiet as they stood there in the street, the awkwardness felt by both parties.  Both knew the impact of those words, the circumstances that led Greg to a decision like that.

“Well, we should get going…any idea about which direction we should go in?” Greg asked after clearing his throat.  Mycroft pulled himself straighter and looked around.

“No idea, there was no relevant cases, there was a small robbery, Sherlock would find it too boring, his phone records didn’t show any urgent matters in this area, the usual contacts, and he hasn’t used his credit card in the last three days.”

“Three days ago, what did he buy?”  Greg asked, interested.

Mycroft took out his notebook and opened it to the relevant page.

“Food, clothes, candles, blankets, cigarettes….oh…quite a few boxes of cigarettes, four air mattresses and four sleeping bags….”

“That’s….does he and John have any plans of taking a trip? Then again it would explain two but not four and Rosie would get a toddler one…but Sherlock wont camp unless for a case, so this is peculiar.”

“It is, and no plans for a trip, not that I would know of, I’m not so present in my brother’s life anymore.”  Mycroft sighed, his voice soft and Greg could feel the hurt in it.  Greg knew that he was closer to Sherlock and John these past few months than Mycroft was, but there was nothing he could do about it. We all have choices to make and Mycroft have to chose to become involved, to let go of the walls around him and Greg’s hands were tied.

Regardless, they have a problem on their hands and Greg must use all his energy and focus on the problem at hand.  Sleeping bags…candles…food…ciga….oh….OH!!!!

“Oh.” Greg cried and closed his eyes and brought his hands up to his face, pressing into his eyes.

Of course….it makes sense….all of it….

“Gregory?” Mycroft asked as he sensed the change in Greg’s body.  He grabbed onto his arm.

Greg ignored Mycroft for nearly a minute as he put the pictures together in his head.  Mycroft only relaxed when the grip on his arms lessened.  Greg stood up straighter and let go of Mycroft’s arm, feeling a little self-conscious.

“Sorry…I guess I had a _Sherlock_ moment…now I know why he gets so excited, it’s a good feeling…” Mycroft frowned but didn’t say anything, he watched in silence as Greg took out his phone.  The light was blinking and Mycroft saw that Greg had three missed calls, all from a ‘ _David_ ’.  Mycroft could feel the air in his lungs froze up and his heart skipping a beat.  Who’s David? It most certainly wasn’t a family member as Mycroft knew Greg’s family, maybe a colleague…maybe…oh…no…please no….

Mycroft watched as Greg ignored that and went to his contacts, looking for Sally’s name.

“You have three missed calls from David, it could be important.”

“Nah…I’ll call him back later, Sherlock is more important at the moment.

Oblivious to Mycroft’s state and thoughts Greg dialled.

“Hey Sal…”

“Yeah, fine…listen…do you recall the murder here at Waterloo some months ago…five or six….”

“Yeah…Sherlock was on it….if I remember correctly one of his homeless network help him…”

“Yeah…yeah that’s the one…do you remember a name?”

“Kyle…oh Karl…he was talking between English and Russian right…Yeah…great.”

“Me…oh no…I’m fine…”

“The right side…he was on the right hand side of the station?  Great, I’ll find him. Sal…don’t worry, I’m good, I’ll call if I need help.  Thank you.  Yeah, go and enjoy your Valentine’s date…”

Mycroft noticed that the true smile he had was when talking to Sally, he knew they were close and Sally was always there when Greg needed her. When Greg finished the call he looked up to Mycroft’s questioning gaze, he gave a slight smile and even though he knew it was about David and the call, he moved to the call, Sherlock was first right now.

“About six months ago, we had a murder here, Sherlock was involved because it was one of his homeless network guys, and Karl was able to help Sherlock and us to catch the killer.  Apparently there is more loyalty in the homeless network than one thinks. Anyway Karl is in this area and the fact that Sherlock bought those, it is for the homeless, if we can find Karl, we certainly will be able to find Sherlock.  Sally said he was living on the right hand side, so let’s start there.” Now that they have found something Greg felt better, stronger and made his way down the street with Mycroft following behind.  

“Thank you.” Mycroft wanted to say more but he couldn’t. How does one take back a year of pain and hurt?  How do you say thank you that after all this time, Greg still shows up when needed. He was so blind to what he had with Greg, so stubborn…he should’ve contacted him, should’ve talked it out…but no…

And now…

Now _David_ gets it…what he get Mycroft wasn’t sure, but it was Greg, and he wasn’t getting Greg, not even a smile.

 

_Raindrops falling from heaven_

_Could never take away my misery_

_But since we’re not together_

_I pray for stormy weather_

_To hide these tears I hope you’ll never see_

 

<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

 

They walked until the end of the block when Greg stopped. He looked right and left, a small frown on his face then proceeded to walk straight over.  They’ve reached the tracks and several tunnels when Greg stopped and reached for his backpack.  He took out two flashlights, handing one to Mycroft and kept one for himself.

Switching it on, they continued to walk into the tunnels; the lights helped them a lot to not trip and fall. They walked for about five minutes when they reach an archway.  That was also the moment the smell reached their noses.  Mycroft pulled a face but Greg didn’t react.  He was used to it.

“I know the first time the smell can be quite overwhelming, but unfortunately the homeless can’t afford the luxury of bath and shower gels like the masses.  Try to breathe through your mouth.” Mycroft looked at Greg and nodded.

They continued a bit further when Greg saw the heap of boxes and blankets. To Mycroft it was a heap of old clothes and ripped material, but Greg moved closer.

“Karl?”

The heap moved a bit, otherwise it just ignored Greg.

Greg grouched down and reached for the blanket.

“Karl, it’s me Greg, I’m Shezza’s friend, remember the one who helped you guys six months ago…Shezza introduced us when you found the body near the warehouse…” Greg spoke softly and reassuring, after all, he has been doing it for years.  Mycroft was once again surprised at how wonderful Greg was, to anyone, regardless of their situation and status.  The man stirred and stared at Greg.

“Ahh…yaaa the gov….Gavin…Graham….don’t remember…” He replied eyeing something in Greg’s jacket.  Greg smiled and took out a packet of cigarettes.

“Yeah, Greg…” Greg lit two cigarettes, one for Karl, the other for himself.  They both smoked for a few seconds this gave Mycroft time to reflect on the situation so far.  Greg knew how to find Sherlock, when he didn’t, Greg was in contact with a _David_ , and Greg started smoking again.

“Karl, I’m sorry to bother you like this, but have you seen Sherlock?  We are looking for him and it is quite urgent, he has been missing for close to two days now…” Greg pointedly looked at the new air mattress the man was sleeping on…

Karl looked at the mattress then at the man standing on one side, looking at them.  Greg pointed to Mycroft.

“He is safe, he is Shezza’s brother, his older brother and he is worried about him.”

Karl looked up and down at Mycroft and Mycroft felt quite uncomfortable at the scrutinising look he was getting.

“Da….same body….not same face….but same….” Greg chuckled at that.

“Yeah, Karl we lost Shezza’s trace here, can you help us, please?”

Karl nodded and pointed his hand to the other side, where the old trains were kept.

“Old trains…no more working….red one….” Greg looked toward the trains and back at Karl.

“He bought more mattresses and supplies, did he take it down with him?”

Karl nodded.

“Well find him there?”

Another nod.

Greg stood up and handed Karl the rest of his cigarettes.

“Thank you Karl, I’ll leave you now.”

They made their way out in silence Mycroft very impressed with the information Greg received.  He waited till they were outside before taking a deep clean breath.

They stopped for a moment for Greg to switch the lights off.

“We were lucky.”

“Lucky? You were marvellous.  It was fascinating to watch you work and the way the smell didn’t even bother you.”  Greg smiled at the appreciation in Mycroft’s voice.

“Well…I am a cop…I’m used to that side of the society for quite a few years now. I guess that is what makes us different.”  Greg replied and started walking to the other side. Mycroft wanted to say something but didn’t know what to so he just followed Greg.

The nearly reached the trains Karl were talking about when Mycroft’s phone rang.

Both stop for a moment and Mycroft took out his phone to see who was calling.

 

*Jean-Paul*

 

_Oh no…not now…_

Mycroft looked bewildered for a moment, unsure of what to do.  He stared at the phone when Greg spoke up.

“You should answer; it isn’t very polite to let them waiting…unless you need some privacy.” When Mycroft looked to Greg, he already took two steps forward, his back to Mycroft.  Taking a breath he answered the call.

“Bonsoir, mon cher, je m’excuse pour le retard.”

  _(Good evening my dear, I’m sorry for the delay in answering you call)_

 

Greg closed his eyes when he heard Mycroft talking, not only in French but he said ‘ _mon cher_ ’ Greg is no language expert, but even he knew that is a term of endearment.  Mycroft have another man in his life.

Great.

No wonder he never called back, he moved on. Probably decided Greg wasn’t worth the effort, besides he is just a cop, who deals regularly with homeless people and can only speak English. " _Mr. mon cher"_ is probably the same class as Mycroft, went to Oxford or Eton, like all the men in their family…blah blah…

“Oui, je Suis occupè cet après-midi mais nous rencontrerons au restaurant ce soir, c’est confirmè. A bien tot”

 _(Yes, I’m busy at the moment but we are going to_ _meet at the restaurant tonight. See you later)_

 

That explains why Mycroft was so reluctant to call him to help him look for Sherlock. He didn’t want Greg to know, but why?  Oh…he has a date…on their anniversary…

Mycroft has a new man in his life.

Mycroft has a date.

Mycroft moved on.

 

And Greg…

Greg is still hurt and broken.

 

Greg used the time to compose himself while Mycroft finished the call.  He could hear Mycroft move till he was standing next to him.  Greg tried to smooth his face.

“If you are busy tonight, I can go look for Sherlock and give him the message.  It’s getting late; I don’t want you to be inconvenienced.”

Mycroft felt the uneasiness in his stomach. Greg put one and one together even if he didn’t speak French.

“No, it’s fine.”

Greg shrugged and he started to walk.

“It’s not what it seems.”

Greg’s stopped and turned to Mycroft, his face clearly said questioned that.

“You know, I could always tell when you are lying, you confirmed the dinner date, plus you called him ‘ _mon cher_ ’ I may not be the smartest tool in the shed, but even I know that is a term of endearment, unless the office politics have become even closer and more intimate than I thought…you have a date.”

“Gregory…” Mycroft tried to explain but Greg interrupted him.

“It makes sense now. Why didn’t want to call me.  Listen I know it’s over between us, a whole year has passed, so don’t worry, I won’t go pine away or cut my wrists…okay, so why don’t you go meet your _‘it’s not what it seems, but it is’_ and I will go and find Sherlock and tell him John’s message.”

Greg spun around and started to walk towards the trains when Mycroft grabbed his arm.

“He is not my partner; he is an acquaintance who is in London for a week.” Mycroft tried but knew he was once again lying; at least Judas got thirty silver pieces….

“Besides, what about ‘ _David_ ’?” Mycroft angrily asked.

Greg shrugged.  Mycroft knew that that shrug said more than words could, Greg didn’t care, he was just going on automatic.

“Friends with benefits…I think they call it these days, no attachments, no feelings, no lies...so go to your _dear_ acquaintance and have a good date.” Greg answered his voice flat.

They stared at each other, both trying to process the new chasm between them.  Neither knew what to say or what to do.

“Boring!” The baritone voice exclaimed over the tracks, both Mycroft and Greg cringed and then as one turned to the voice.  There, not even five meters away stood Sherlock, rumpled and dirty clothes, minus the coat.  His hair was dirty and in oily streaks but it was him.

“Could you please avoid declaring your pathetic sex lives to everyone in a ten mile radius…there are more important things that who gets laid tonight or any other night.”

Mycroft looked furiously at his brother ready to tear him a new one, when Greg walked to him, surprised.

“What the bloody hell are you doing her?  Everybody is looking for you?  Couldn’t you put your phone on, once?”

“Battery is flat…” Sherlock replied.  Greg shook his head.

“You…”  
“What are you doing here?  And you….” He looked at Mycroft.  
“Did I upset Mummy again?”

Mycroft walked closer.

“No…John has been trying to reach you, when he couldn’t he called me.  He is with his sister and wanted to let you know he is out of town for a few days.”

“Obviously.  Still boring.”  Sherlock replied.

“Sherlock, you still haven’t told us what you are doing here?” Greg asked exasperated.  

“Well…wait you have First Aid experience right?” The question took Greg by surprise, what does his have to do with him being missing?

“Yes, level 3 why?” Sherlock smiled.

“Well, you’re not John, but it will do.  You will do nicely, come on.”

“Are you trying to insult and compliment me?” Greg asked but before Sherlock could answer the air was ripped by a piercing scream.   The three men looked up in surprise. Sherlock grabbed Greg by the arm.

 

“Come on!” Greg had no choice but to follow Sherlock as he lead him through several trains to a very old one in the farthest corner, neither checked to see if Mycroft was following.  Sherlock opened the side door and climbed in with Greg on his heels.  

“What the…” Greg asked once inside.

“Oh dear…” Mycroft whispered as he took in his surroundings.  Greg looked at him before focusing on the scene in front of him.  A woman was laying on one of the mattresses Sherlock bought, sweat was running down her face, her legs were propped up and open and her belly was huge.  She was in labour.  Next to her were another woman and a man, trying to give the pregnant woman some comfort.  Sherlock ignored them and went to the woman in labour.

“Julie, this is Greg, he is a cop and can help you.”

“No…no…police…”

“He is safe Julie, I trust him.”  Sherlock said and Greg felt a tug at his heart at that.

“What about an ambulance?” Mycroft asked.  Julie shook her head.

“No…”

She didn’t want any authority and Greg knew that they would cause unnecessary problems, still he can’t walk away.  He can help her, and he can make sure no one gets in trouble.   It is not illegal to help someone and with today’s paperwork and never ending procedures, she will get lost in the system. Greg didn’t think twice as he put the backpack down and bend down to her.

“Just to help, no questions asked.  And Mycroft can arrange for an ambulance…they will not ask questions, very discreet, just to make sure you and the baby are okay after birth.” She looked at him, turning back to Sherlock who gave her a nod.  She nodded at Greg.

“Okay…”

“She’s having the baby here?” Mycroft asked dumbfounded.  Greg nodded.

“Too late to move.”

Sherlock pointed to the other two.

“That’s Ann, Julie’s sister and Yuri, Julie’s boyfriend and the father.  From my deduction, the baby is very close.”

Greg knelt down between the woman’s legs.

“That’s where you’ve been?”

Sherlock nodded.

“Why didn’t you call for John?” Greg asked as he looked at the blankets and took out a few water bottles from his pack.

“He was at the clinic when Ann came to me, later Yuri went to the clinic but was told he was out of town on family business…Harry I supposed…what did she do?”

“Tried to commit suicide…” Mycroft answered distractedly, standing in one corner watching this new development with wonder and fear.

“Failed?”

“Yes, but according to her reports, she is not doing very well.” Mycroft explained.  Sherlock just nodded, his attention on Greg, who was pulling an old basin nearby and pouring some water inside.  He looked to Yuri.

“Do you have any alcohol?”

“I have vodka.”

“Perfect, give it to me.” Yuri handed Greg the bottle.

“Now is not the time to drink!” Sherlock cried. Greg rolled his eyes and poured it into the water.

“Sterile…Sherlock, this is not the hospital, I have to improvise.”

“Oh…that’s actually clever.”

“I have my moments.” Greg drily responded.

Mycroft watched in fascination as Greg worked, he made sure Julie was taken care of, and there was water and towel before he reached his hands under her dress…what….the…why…aah…noooo

“Your contractions are very close; the baby is coming in the next ten minutes.” He looked to Sherlock.

“Do you have a scissor, knife and rope or rubber bands?”

“Yeah…why…?”

“Clean it…it’s for the umbilical cord...”

Sherlock quickly removed the item and cleaned it with the vodka, still left in the bottle.

“Gregory, how many births have you been present too?” Mycroft asked and took a small step forward; he was a bit disgusted by the whole thing, yet fascinated and curious.

“Uuhm…this would be my first.”

“What?” Sherlock and Mycroft yelled at the same time.

“You said you have First Aid experience…”  Sherlock cried.

“I do Sherlock, but in all my years I never had to deliver, I know the theory…usually we were able to call an ambulance and have EMT’s…I remember the procedure, just never actually done it.”

Sherlock and Greg shared a look before Julie screamed again, and Greg refocused his attention on her.

“Okay Julie, this is it, I need you to relax as much as possible and take as much deep breaths as you can.”

“Relax…! I’mmmm pu….shin…..a baby out…oooooffff my…vaaaaahhhhhhh!” She yelled and the men cringe.  Sherlock snickered at her response and before he could do anything Greg grabbed his hand and held it out to Julie.

“Here….squeeeze his hand…”

Julie didn’t wait for a second invitation as he grabbed Sherlock’s hand and squeezed as much as she could.  Sherlock pulled a face and opened his mouth in pain; his hand was white from the pressure.  Greg smiled back.

“Laugh now…smart arse…” He turned to Mycroft.

“Have you called your contacts to come and picked them up, when this is done?”

Mycroft just stared at the scene in front on him.

“Mycroft!”

“What?” He asked, looking at Greg.

“Have you called someone discreet to look after this family?”

“Not…yet...”

“Well call them…now!” He added and focused back on the woman.  

“Okay, I see the crown…” Greg mumbled and both Sherlock and Mycroft were confused, what crown…it is not a royal baby…oh…their eyes widen as they saw the ‘crown’ it was a sight they would never forget, no matter how hard they tried.

“Is that…” Sherlock tried but couldn’t finish the sentence.

“Yes.”

“Why is it so long?” Mycroft asked.

“Because it is being squeezed guys, it will get back to normal…” They watch in fascination as Greg talked with Julie, and helping the new-born out.  With one last push Greg held the baby firmly in his hands, sweat down his face and a crying baby.  He was laughing and crying at the same time as he looked at the baby.

“A boy…Julie you have a beautiful boy…” Greg exclaimed and cleaned the baby with the water and towel, before he wrapped him in a blanket and handed her to Julie who was laughing and crying for her boy.  Sherlock forgot about his hand and the blood only coming back now, and was staring wide eye at the scene, the mirror image of Mycroft.  Both their mouths open, their eyes taking in every detail.  Greg in the meantime took the rubber bands and tied it at two places on the umbilical cord.

“What are you doing?” Mycroft asked and Sherlock looked as well.

“We need to cut it, but it is still full of liquid and stuff…we need to tie it off, so it doesn’t…bleed out…spill….I don’t know…I’m just following my instinct here.” Greg responded.  He waited about five minutes before he took the knife Sherlock handed him and cut the cord in half.

“That was incredible.” Sherlock muttered staring at the cord.

“You were marvellous Gregory.” Mycroft said, not even hiding the wonder and amazement in his voice.  Greg just smiled.

“Gregory?” Yuri spoke up.

“Yeah?” Greg asked.

“No…my boy…name Gregory Sherlock Peskov, you and Shezza saved my son, my wife…our family. We owe you.”

“You don’t owe me anything, I’m glad I could’ve help, Mycroft here has people that will take you to a facility and make sure you all are okay, and taken care off, they won’t ask questions and you will be able to leave anytime.  Just take care of little…’baby Greg’ it is enough payment.”

“Thank you, you are man of worth.”  Yuri replied and shook Greg’s hand.

Greg smiled sadly at that and stood up, stretching his muscles.  Sherlock and Mycroft followed him as he walked outside to get some fresh air.  His hands were shaking, still on the adrenalin.

“You…were…that was brilliant.” Sherlock replied with amazement.

“Wait…are you complimenting right now….”

“Uhmmm”

“That is fantastic I must save the day…name buddy…” Greg joked. Sherlock just groaned out loud.  Mycroft was still smiling at the whole ordeal, when they saw an ambulance with a few people.  Anthea walked towards them with two EMT’s and a stretcher.

“I will handle this.” Mycroft said in a clipped tone and made his way to Anthea, he briefly explained the situation and her eyes widen and turned to Greg when he told her what he did.  They watched on the side as they took the new family away, with smiles and waves leaving the three men alone once more.

“Well, it is getting late, Sherlock, you definitely need to call John now, he needs you now, more than you think, just be there all right…”  Sherlock looked between his brother and Greg and nodded. They all knew to what he was referring to, luckily Sherlock had the social skills to not say anything.  It was awkward enough.  Greg turned to Mycroft.

“Well, it was good to see you again, today did turn out to be quite an adventure, maybe I’ll see  you some time at Baker Street…or you know…around…enjoy your date…evening…dinner…” He trailed off a little awkward.  Mycroft tried to think of a response when Sherlock butted in.

“A date?  Tonight of all nights…who on earth wants a date with you, Greg here was a universal anomaly on his own, but two….did you bribe him?”

Mycroft scoffed and pursed his lips, placing all his focus on his brother, Sherlock turned to look at him, ready for the rivalry to start.

“I’m not…it’s not…” Mycroft tried but stopped midway, he looked down and sighed.  When he looked up he turned to where Greg stood, only to find the space empty.  He was gone.  Mycroft wanted to analyse him about the way he said he must enjoy the evening, he couldn’t figure out what he meant by that, he wanted to say jealous, but that couldn’t be.

“Oh for God’s sake, give me your phone so I can call John, you can stay here and process your latest failure.  You just don’t learn do you?”  Sherlock grabbed Mycroft’s phone Mycroft didn’t say a thing as he just stood there, watching the space Greg was not so long ago.

He listened in silence as Sherlock talked to John, the care in his voice, the excitement as he told John what happened, the pride in how Greg handled it, the fact that the baby was named after him, his heart clenched when he heard the care and concern when he asked about John’s sister.  Sherlock indeed did learn, but Mycroft, no, he obviously didn’t.  

Sherlock finished the call and handed Mycroft the phone back.

“I’m going now, I need a shower and some sleep.”  Mycroft looked at Sherlock and could see he wanted to say something else, but he only shook his head and took off.  Mycroft watched him walk away and sighed, lowering his head.

He was alone but on top of that, he was lonely.  

With heavy steps he made his way back to his place, he has an hour to get ready before he has to meet Jean-Paul.   All of a sudden he really wasn’t in the mood for company…

 

_Someday when my crying’s done_

_I’m gonna wear a smile and walk in the sun_

_I may be a fool_

_But till then, darling, you’ll never see me complain_

_I’ll do my crying in the rain._

 

 

_Crying in the rain – A-Ha_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The delivery may not follow the exact procedure, it is fiction.


	2. Waiting for Love

**Without Reservations**

 

 

**Chapter 2: Waiting for love**

 

_Where there’s a will, there’s a way, kind of beautiful_

_And every night has its day, so magical_

_And if there’s love in this life, there’s no obstacle_

_That can’t be defeated._

 

 

Greg opened his door and stepped in, not even bothering with the main lights.  He knows where everything is.  Putting his backpack down on one of the sofas he made his way to the bathroom.  He really craves a hot shower right about now.  Today has certainly been memorable.  He delivered a baby, a human being, a new life into this world.  That put a smile on his face, a real one in quite a while.  

While in the shower he replayed the events of the day, he didn’t wait to hear Mycroft’s answer he just turned around and walked away, he heard enough, he went through enough for one day. The whole day gave him a variety of emotions, he feels happy and pride and excitement about the baby, hope that it will all turn well.  He wished that he could wash away the pain and hurt, just like those actors in the movies.  He was sad and hurt about Mycroft, disappointed in himself that he still feels so much for Mycroft, even thought he had moved on.  Why must he always feel so much?

He meant it when he said David was just a friend with benefits; he reached the age that he really wasn’t in the mood for a new relationship, to open himself up, get in deep and just crash again. Not when he still missed Mycroft as well, the smell of him…the way he walked, that gaze…

He should never have agreed to help John, he knew he was going to get hurt, but he couldn’t say no, not when Sherlock was involved.  Plus if he has to completely honest with himself some part wanted to see him again. To see if Mycroft was missing him too

Getting out of the shower he remembered that he must still get back to David, he still remembered the shock on Mycroft’s face when he told him who David really is, nothing more than a booty call.  He bet Mycroft didn’t expect that. But it is what it is.  He and David got along really well, both liked football, both supported Arsenal, both preferred steak and chips and beer over fancy food and fancy wine. They shared the same music taste but it wasn’t enough. He wanted the fancy food and fancy wine, he wanted the opposite, he wanted Mycroft.

Then again life wasn’t like the movies, the Romcom’s everyone seems to love where there is always a happy ending. Life is different, life is hard and cruel filled with stubborn old men, who couldn’t compromise a year ago and now he has a booty call and Mycroft has a ‘Jean-Paul’.

It was already after seven when he finally picked up his phone, David already found something else to do.  Running his hands through his wet hair he picked up a packet of crisps and a beer and sat down to watch some old matches trying to forget the pain that still endures in his heart and mind, long after the event.

 

_For every tyrant a tear for the vulnerable_

_In every lost soul the bones of a miracle_

_For every dreamer a dream we’re unstoppable_

_With something to believe in._

 

 

The house was cold and empty when Mycroft stepped in, but he ignored it, his mind was elsewhere and he was running out of time.  He will only be able to have a very quick shower, if one.  Dressing in a clean suit will already make him feel better and would lengthen the time he had.  

“You are a man of worth.” Yuri had said as he shook the hand of the man who just delivered his son.  Gregory was a man of worth, and he had been very lucky and blessed to have had him, to have been in a relationship with him, he just didn’t count on his stubbornness to get in the way.  He should’ve never allowed Greg to walk out.  He should’ve insisted that they talk it out, that they worked through it.  He missed Greg so much.  That joyous laugh when he was happy, that mischievous look when he had a plan…that soft warm body always ready to hold him close.  

“ _Bloody hell, are your legs always this cold…not enough flesh…come here…_.” Greg would mutter in his sleep and pull Mycroft close.  

Mycroft sat down on the bed, his hands sliding over the covers as if he could still feel Greg’s warmth.  It was long cold.

He had no idea what his plans were with Jean-Paul, he just wanted to go out and not eating alone, to have someone opposite him, that wasn’t a government official, a business meeting, or trying to get something out of him. Jean-Paul was supposed to be a new beginning, sharing the same interest as Mycroft, a french lawyer.  They met at a gala; both bored out of their minds and started talking.  Both only present because of work, if Greg had been there he would’ve…..no...  He needs to focus on Jean-Paul, not Gregory.

“Friends with benefits.” That is how he called David, someone to have sex with, no attachments just a good time.  He never thought Greg would have had one, he was always so emotional, wanted a connection.  

 

Mycroft stood in front of the restaurant, all around were happy couples, romantic music and a light atmosphere.  He was feeling heavier than a ten ton truck.  He looked around and then moved to the window, he couldn’t see Jean-Paul, Mycroft always chose the tables the furthest away from the entrance, or windows.  He loved his privacy, Jean-Paul didn’t mind, Greg used to laugh and shake his head, muttering something about ‘Holmes’ under his breath. Mycroft didn’t mind.  Greg didn’t judge him, he accepted it.

He needed to make it right; he needed to get his life back, the way it used to be.  He learned from his mistakes, but he shouldn’t stay in it.   Taking a deep breath he looked back at the restaurant before he turned around and with a new step walked away into the opposite direction.  One mistake doesn’t justify another one.

 

_Monday left me broken_

_Tuesday I was through with hoping_

_Wednesday my empty arms were open_

_Thursday waiting for love, waiting for love_

_Thank the stars it’s Friday_

_I’m burning like a fire gone wild on Saturday_

_Guess I won’t be coming to church on Sunday_

_I’ll be waiting for love, waiting for love_

_To come around._

 

 

<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

 

The sound of rain was louder than the sound of the telly.  Greg didn’t mind, the telly was just white noise anyway.  Picking up his second can of beer he glanced to the window. He wondered if the rain would deter people from their plans, especially the ones outside.  Maybe it would ruin some, or make them better, more romantic, huddled under the same umbrella…well…not his problem…

He wondered how little Greg was doing…

No…stop thinking about today.  

He and Mycroft used to love weather like this; they would sit together on the sofa, either with the fire going, music, or just them and the silence…sometimes talking, sometimes just there with one another.  Greg would savour those moments, if he knew it would’ve ended so soon, he would’ve savoured them even more, like a plant, holding it when he was as lonely as now…

Now, he only had a broken and sad heart, and you can’t savour those.

  


Greg lost track of time, but he knew it must have been late when the knock on his door came.  He glowered at the door, as if it dared to offend him.  It better not be old Lady Carver next door who lost her keys, she should be in bed already…When the second knock came he stood up and opened the door. Not even bothering with shoes.

“Wha…..” His voice trailed off, when he saw his visitor….

“Hello  Gregory.”  Greg stared at the tall man, in an amazing suit, with a black satin tie.  The aftershave wrapping around him just as much as the mere presence of Mycroft.

“Mycroft.”  He finally croaked out. Just when he thought his day of weirdness was over.

“I’m sorry to come unannounced.”  Mycroft tried.  

“Oookayyyy.” Greg drawled, not trusting his eyes.  He did only have two beers right?  Not more?  This isn’t some half-arsed dream and then he will wake-up tomorrow trying to figure out what was worse, the hangover or the dream…

“I’m really here…” Mycroft voice was soft as he realised what Greg was thinking.  

“You should be on your date…” Greg replied, finally getting his mind in working order.

“I should, but I bailed.”  Mycroft answered and the corner of his lip turned up when he saw the surprise on Greg’s face.

“Bailed…As in not showing.”

“Yes. I made it as far as the front door before I walked away.”

Greg tried to process what Mycroft is saying, he never ever thought that Mycroft would willingly bail on something; he would usually make an excuse or claim work, but just not show up….

“You better come in.” He finally relented and opened the door wider.  Mycroft walked in, looking around the old, yet familiar place.

“Thank you.”

Greg shrugged and closed the door behind him.

“I’d offer you a beer, but you don’t drink that.”

“I’ll take one, if you have one.”  Mycroft responded.  Greg widens his eyes in surprise.  Today the surprises keep coming…

“Okay…” Greg walked into the kitchen and came back with a can and a glass.  Mycroft took both and eyed the glass and to Greg’s surprise, yet again, opened the can and took a sip.  Greg watched his face as he drank the bitter liquid.

“Oh…it’s…nice…”  
Greg couldn’t help it and burst out laughing. That seemed to break the ice as Mycroft relaxed a bit and smiled shyly at Greg.

“Yeah…I can see that, if you don’t like it, you don’t have to drink it.”

“No…I’m sure it is an acquired taste.” Mycroft was stubborn and took another sip.

“Getting better already.”

“Hmmm….so want to tell me why you bailed on your date?”

Mycroft eyed the can and then took another sip, a long one.  This must be bad Greg thought as he really needed some liquid courage.  He cleared his throat and looked at Greg.  The atmosphere was suddenly tense again.

“I don’t…I came to a realisation and that is that one mistake didn’t warrant another one.”

Greg tried to figure out what that meant and more importantly what the first mistake was and how he fitted into all of this, he personally would like to know what he wished it meant, but he will not take it to his mind or dwell on it.  He will just get hurt again.

But Mycroft is here….

Drinking beer he hates…

Supposed to be on a date but he bailed….

“If you bailed, shouldn’t he call you to ask where you are?”

“My phone is off.” Mycroft answered taking another sip.  He is really either getting the hand of this beer or the taste is improving.

“Your phone is never off.”  Greg retaliated and sat down on the coffee table, looking at Mycroft.

“It is now…because I don’t want to be bothered.”

Greg run his fingers through his hair, he should’ve got himself a third beer.

“Mycroft…please…just cut to the chase…what are you doing here?”

“You...were my biggest mistake…”  He started and when he saw Greg’s face. He went on. ”….that came out wrong…I meant…letting you go, was my biggest mistake.”

Whoaaa…that….

“What?”  Greg tried but it came out hoarse, his breath was shallow and his heart was beating faster than before.

“I need a cigarette.” Mycroft whispered as his fingers tapped against the can.

“You quit, remember?”

“You started again…” Mycroft retaliated.

“Well…too bad…explain what you meant.”

Mycroft took a breath and finished the last drags of the beer; his hands holding the can close.

“Seeing you today opened up a whole new set of emotions, once I thought I lost it all, but it all came back seeing you, and I realised that even if I am scared of what you do to me, and make me feel it is nothing compared to the fear I feel of being without you.”

 

_We are one of a kind irreplaceable_

_How did I get so blind so cynical_

_If there’s love in this life we’re unstoppable_

_No, we can’t be defeated._

 

 

Greg stared at Mycroft, his body tense and his eyes focused. He couldn’t believe what he just heard. So Mycroft…what…wants him back? Realised that they belong together?  What is he supposed to do with this information?

“You can say something now…” Mycroft tried.

“Ha!”  Greg burst out, not sure if he wants to laugh or cry.

“That’s..uhm…what do you want me to say?”  Greg asked, standing up and started to pace around the living room.  Mycroft stood up and watch him.

“You came here, after a whole year of no contact, not a single text…and say that to me.  Today you arranged your date, you didn’t even wanted my help in the first place, and now, few hours later you lay that on me.  Why now?  Why not in the first week after the break-up?  I waited glued to my phone hoping for a call, a text, anything…And now, out of the blue, one year later…What do you want from me?”

“I wanted to text you, to call you, but I couldn’t, I know what I did was wrong, that I deserved your anger and my pride and the thought that I don’t deserve someone like you kept me from making contact.  I always knew someone like you deserves better than someone like me…I hoped it was a nightmare, but it wasn’t. I didn’t want to call you today, because I had no idea how to face you, I didn’t know how to look at you and still think of you as mine. I thought that it would be easier to not see you and live with my guilt than seeing you and live with my regret.”

Greg was dumbfounded, he never thought that he would hear those words from Mycroft; it took a lot of guts for him to come here, after all this time and say that.  He didn’t have any reservation about his thoughts and ideas, coming clean and saying that words, Greg longed to hear for a year.  He sighed, he need to come clean too.

“I was wrong too…I let my anger get in the way and stormed off, I should’ve stayed and talked it out, find a compromise that could work instead I walked away, and I regretted that every single day. I wanted to call you so many times, but with every minute I got sadder and more hopeless, not knowing what to say, so I kept quiet.”

Mycroft recognised the emotions for what it was; after all, he had it too.

“Me too.  I should’ve just man up and called you.  Saved us both a lot of trouble.”

“Yeah…me too…”

There was silence in the room, both men just looking around and trying not to make it obvious they were actually trying to look at each other.  They would occasionally share a look before looking away. Still they found themselves drifting closer, slow steps but it was there.

With a few steps to go their eyes locked and they were unable to look away. They walked until they were so close they could reach out and touch if they want to.

“What now…?” Greg breathed out.

“I don’t want to regret anything regarding you ever again Gregory, just the time we’ve wasted, please give me another chance.”  Mycroft replied, his voice soft, his attention solely on Greg, his eyes storming with the emotions.  Greg got lost in them.

“You will get rid of Jean-Paul?”

“Without a doubt…your…uh…’ _friend’…David_.”

“Long gone.  It's only you Mycroft, always will.”

Mycroft leaned in closer his hand slowly reaching for Greg’s jaw.

“May I have a second chance Gregory, to treasure you, and show you how much you mean to me?”

“Yes, if you give me one too.”  Greg replied, his hands slowly encircling Mycroft’s waist.

“You can have all of them…I love you.”  Mycroft answered before brushing his lips over Greg’s.

“I love you too.”  Greg voiced and Mycroft smiled broadly before closing their lips with a kiss.

 

When they broke apart, both were smiling happily, their foreheads resting against each other.  Both new that this was it, there may be up and downs, but in the end, they will always find their way back to one another.  They can’t deny it anymore, what they have is love and nothing will stand in its way.  They can work through it, both never ever wanted to repeat this year again, both learned their lessons, both knew that in the end, all that matters is them.

“Gregory…”  
“Hmm”

“Happy Valentine’s day.”

“Happy Valentine’s day, My.”

 

 

_Monday left me broken_

_Tuesday I was through with hoping_

_Wednesday my empty arms were open_

_Thursday waiting for love, waiting for love_

_Thank the stars it’s Friday_

_I’m burning like a fire gone wild on Saturday_

_Guess I won’t be coming to church on Sunday_

_I’ll be waiting for love, waiting for love_

_To come around._

 

  


 

Waiting for love - Avicii (with Martin Carrix & Joh Legend)


End file.
